


Stardust

by lmeden



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-27
Updated: 2012-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-31 20:17:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lmeden/pseuds/lmeden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Absolutely untrue!” Yusuf countered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stardust

**Author's Note:**

> For exhaledtroop.

“ _Absolutely_ untrue!” Yusuf countered, leaning back in his seat. His chair tilted back with the movement, and he reached out to grab his desk, eyes wide. Slowly, he pulled himself forward until all four legs of the chair hit the floor, and he let out a sigh. 

He sat back more slowly and folded him hands in his lap, his sharp gaze challenging Eames’ raised eyebrow. 

“Honestly, I hadn’t expected to be greeted in such a manner,” Eames responded airily, pausing as he lowered himself into a seat. “I did let you know I was coming, didn’t I?” He was almost sure that he had, but lately his memory had been a bit slipshod, and he had been driving for several hours, so he figured that minor hallucinations weren’t to be totally unexpected. 

“You did,” Yusuf said, “and it’s good to see you.” His tone was quiet and pleased. Eames smiled at him; something tickled the inside of his nose, which he wrinkled in a useless attempt at self-control, and then he sneezed. 

He pinched the top of his nose and glared at Yusuf. The inside of his shop was cloying, filled with unnamable and vaguely distasteful scents that Eames didn’t trust at all, even a little bit. 

“It’s been years since I’ve had the time to come all the way out here, and this place is so full of chemicals that I sneeze the moment I walk in and find you halfway high off the smell.”

“I told you,” Yusuf said, “I’m not high.” But there was a twitch in his lips, and his eyes were just a bit too wide for Eames to believe him. 

He sighed and pushed himself out of his chair. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs.”

“What?” Yusuf gaped at him for an instant too long, so Eames walked around the desk and reached down, dragging him up and out of his seat. 

“Yes,” he declared, “we are going up to the roof.” 

He stopped, Yusuf pushing against him and trying to straighten his jacket, hands clumsy and honestly, there was _no way_ he was sober. The chemicals had gone to his brain. Eames knew the symptoms. 

“Now,” he said, peering around the room, into the corners, searching for a discreet curtain or something of the sort. “Where are the damned stairs?”

-|-

They lay on Yusuf’s roof, which was thatched or cobbled or something (Eames had never bothered to ask), and Eames found it significantly less comfortable than he remembered. Of course, he had been the drunk one last time they had done this, a state that tended to paradoxically improve his balance, so the slope of it hadn’t bothered him at the time. 

Now, though, he had to brace himself and sit down slowly, only managing to relax once he was laid as flat as could be, feet braced wide and holding him in place. Yusuf assumed the same position next to him with ludicrous ease. 

“You may have been right,” he said, and Eames rolled his head to look at him. His fingers itched for a fag (filthy habit, that, but still). 

“I always am,” he responded easily, before pausing to think. He opened his mouth to ask ‘about what’ and then closed it, because though he may have _been_ a fool, he didn’t have to look like one.

Yusuf glanced over at him. “I mean, I may have been a bit…high off of all the chemicals.”

Eames turned his face up to look at the stars, sparkling bright and burning. 

“It’s mad for you to spend so much time in there, Yusuf. Your brain must be dissolving.”

He could feel Yusuf’s eyebrow quirking. “How very unscientific of you,” he commented, and Eames waved a hand at him.

“You’re the scientist, not me,” he replied. 

_Hmmm_. Yusuf was otherwise silent, and Eames had been traveling for so long that he very quickly he began to slip away and doze. The discomfort of the roof digging into his back faded away, to be replaced by a dull disconnection. 

He could almost feel a dream hovering at the edge of his mind, but it wriggled and slipped away. A hand landed on Eames’ arm, and he rolled. Yusuf’s palm was dry and hot, and it brought Eames back. His eyes slid open and he blinked.

“It’s been seven years, Eames. Not that I’m not glad to see you, but…why now?”

Eames had wondered why Yusuf hadn’t asked the question when he’d called, announced his imminent arrival. Yusuf had responded with a long pause and then said, “You know you’re always welcome,” but he had never asked why. 

Eames didn’t think he was up to the telling. 

“Do you ever wonder whether it’s all worth it?” he asked. 

“No,” Yusuf said, and Eames knew that he must have wondered, to know the answer so quickly. 

“Neither have I,” Eames said, and a rough bark of a laugh burst from Yusuf. 

For a moment, looking into the spark at the heart of Yusuf’s black eyes, laughing with the roughness of the roof digging into his spine, and his knee sore from the effort of holding himself in place, Eames felt young again. 

When the laughter finally died, and the soft sounds of street life reasserted themselves, Eames said, “How could I ever regret this? We’ve had a chance to wander among the stars. I would let them take so much more from me, if I were to do it again.”

He was being maudlin, but Yusuf didn’t seem to mind, and the stars were bright above them. 

“I know what you mean,” Yusuf said quietly, barely a whisper, and when he laid his hand upon Eames’, his fingers trembled. 

The night grew very quiet around them.


End file.
